


Bad Things Happen - Parkner

by ceo_of_lonely



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gay Harley Keener, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Smut, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Harley Keener, Protective Tony Stark, Whump, no starker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceo_of_lonely/pseuds/ceo_of_lonely
Summary: the prompts are:1: nightmares2: i will punish your friend for your failures3: stumbling and staggering4: angry mob5: tied to a pole6: voice breaking7: betrayal8: verbal abuse9: memory loss10: shaking and shivering(TWs at the beginning of each chapter!!)
Relationships: Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 95





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> tw: panic attacks

“Harley, I’m home!” Peter called out, closing the door behind him with his foot while he balanced several grocery bags and two pizzas in his arms. “I brought the pizza from that new place down the street, Ned told me it’s really good.”

He placed everything down on the kitchen counter and made his way to the living room. Something was off. Harley would usually be there in a split second to greet Peter, even if he was working or studying for a final, so the eerie silence that fell upon the apartment made Peter’s gut twist nervously.

“Harley?” He asked, slowly making his way to the bedroom. It was empty, but it looked like a tornado had found its way inside. The blankets and pillows were strewn across the floor, lamps were toppled over and almost everything that sat on the desks and bedside tables were also laying on the ground. 

“What the hell?” Peter muttered, nearly jumping out of his skin when a creaking sound rang out. He knew that creak. That was from the door that led to the stairs to the roof that always put Peter in a bad mood because Harley never oiled the hinges. 

Peter rushed toward it, finding it wide open, slightly swinging back and forth with the breeze. Rushing up the stairs, he anxiously wondered what Harley was doing up there, given that he had a fear of heights.

“Harls, you up here-?” Peter froze when he made it to the roof. Right in the center, Harley sat tied to a chair beside a masked man. The man was resting his weight onto the backrest of the chair, twirling a gun between long fingers. Peter’s eyes flicked to Harley, chin resting against his chest and blood pouring from a nasty-looking cut on his temple and from his nose. A faint bruise was beginning to blossom across his cheekbone and his eyes were half-lidded.

“Oh, Parker! Glad you could make it, kid!” The man suddenly said when he spotted the superhero. Peter glared, clenching his trembling fists at his sides.

“Let him go,” he demanded. The man laughed.

“Sorry, little one, but I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“What do you want? Money?” Peter asked, voice bordering on pleading when the man lifted Harley’s head with the barrel of the gun.

“Pete,” Harley murmured.

“I don’t care for money, Parker. What I do care for, though, is something entirely different.” Peter could practically hear the grin in the man’s voice.

“What is that?” Peter asked tensely. The man shoved the gun against Harley’s temple.

“You took everything from me, _Spidey,_ ” the man spat, and Peter felt his heart drop. “You killed the only person I had left. And you call yourself a ‘hero’,” the man scoffed.

“He didn’t kill anybody,” Harley snapped, only to make the man raise the gun and hit the back of his head with it, instantly sending Harley into unconsciousness.

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked, swallowing thickly.

“Of course you wouldn’t know. June 4th, at the Queens Museum. You murdered my son. Paramedics found him crushed under rubble.”

Suddenly, everything rushed back to Peter. The Green Goblin had attacked a few blocks away, and while Peter was busy fighting him, he set off a bomb hidden in the museum. Peter hadn’t slept for weeks after that.

“Look, I’m sorry you lost your son. I really am. I couldn’t make it in time- it was all a part of Green Goblin’s plan- you don’t have to do this-”

“Yes I do,” the man snarled.

“No, _wait_ , we can talk this out-”

The gunshot rang through the air.

“-eter! Pete!”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, distantly aware of the hands rubbing his back and cupping his cheek. His lungs constricted and a rough sob tore its way through his throat. His entire body trembled uncontrollably.

“Peter! Talk to me, darlin’.”

Peter looked over and brown met blue. His lip trembled.

“Harls..?”

Harley nodded, the hand on Peter’s cheek moving up to push a strand of hair away from his face. “I’m here, it was just a nightmare. You’re ok.”

Peter reached out, hands finding Harley’s shirt and grasping onto the soft fabric as Harley pulled him into a gentle embrace. Peter’s breathing eventually slowed and Harley pulled him down so they were both more comfortable. Peter, draped over Harley, sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Pete.” Peter lifted his head and stared down at the blond, admiring every freckle and every shade of blue in his eyes because, with a sad sigh, he realized how his nightmare could very easily turn into real life if they weren’t careful enough. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Harley murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips. Peter mirrored his smile.

“Nothing,” he whispered. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Harley let out a breathy chuckle.

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you more.”

“We are not starting this now, Parker.”


	2. I will punish your friend for your failures

“Really?” Peter asked, unimpressed. “ _Money_ is what you want? You really couldn’t have been more original?” He teased, only to receive another punch to the jaw. 

“Just get Stark to hand over two million and you’ll be free to go,” the man snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. Peter held back an eye-roll.

“Yeah, man, no-can-do.”

His kidnapper stared down at him for a moment, face hardening. 

“Alright, then,” he said, voice empty of any emotion. “You have one last chance before your little boyfriend rams through that door-” he pointed over his shoulder at the aged doors of the warehouse with his thumb. “And  _ then _ you might change your mind.”

Whatever the man was implying, it sent a wave of fear pool in Peter’s gut. He struggled against his Vibranium restraints. The man smirked maliciously.

“Ooh, I struck a nerve, haven’t I?” 

Right before Peter could reply, the doors flew off their hinges, just like the man had expected. Iron-Lad stood on the other side, holding his hands up, repulsors whining in anticipation. He took a few long strides towards the two.

“Let him go,” he demanded, voice firm. The man chuckled, folding his hands behind his back as he turned to Harley. He tapped his watch twice. Peter felt his gut drop and he looked around, eyes landing on a man perched on a ledge a few feet off the ground. Before Peter could warn Harley, though, the man jumped down and landed on Harley’s back, throwing him onto the ground. 

The two tussled for a moment before the man reached into his pocket. If it weren’t for the moonlight bouncing off the shiny metal, Peter wouldn’t have realized it was a knife. 

“ _ Wait _ !” He yelled out, pulling harshly at his restraints. The man sunk the knife into Harley’s shoulder.

Peter’s kidnapper turned back to him, a smug grin pulling at his thin, chapped lips. Peter could only watch, horrified, as Harley’s hands flew up to his injury seconds after his attacker pulled the knife out and got to his feet, looking nothing but satisfied with himself. 

“Are you ready to cooperate now, boy?” 

The man, completely unaware of the way Peter had been pulling and tugging at the handcuffs over the last half hour so the metal wore down enough for him to break them, looked quite surprised when Peter stood up, fists clenched. He barely had the time to react before Peter swung a harsh punch to the jaw, knocking the man out instantly. Harley’s attacker ran towards Peter, bloody knife still in hand. Rage bubbled in Peter’s chest, and after a few anger-driven hits, the man collapsed. 

“Harley!” Peter landed on his knees roughly next to his best friend. “Hey, hey, Harley, stay with me, alright? Come on,  _ please  _ Harley.”

Harley’s nanotech helmet retracted into the suit, revealing his dangerously pale face. The pool of blood underneath him kept growing.

“Hey, Parker,” he murmured, smiling softly. Peter choked on his words, face crumbling.

“You’re gonna be ok, alright? You hear me? Mr. Stark will be here at any moment now. Just-” his voice cracked, eyes stinging with unshed tears as Harley’s head lolled. “Just hold on, ok?”

He gently cupped Harley’s cheek, his free hand applying a steady amount of pressure to Harley’s lower shoulder.

_ So much blood, so much fucking _ -

“Harley?” 

Harley’s eyes were half-lidded, gaze distant and glazed over, focusing and unfocusing on Peter’s face.

“Harley, open your eyes, come on,” Peter cried. A sob tore through his throat, finally letting the tears loose. His hands trembled. “You do not get to leave me now, Keener,” he demanded, tapping Harley's cheek with bloodied hands. He sucked in a pained breath.

“Please, Harley, don’t- I can’t- I can’t do this without you,” Peter wailed, voice cracking heavily. “I  _ love you _ . I love you and I was too much of a coward to admit it but I love you, Harley Keener. And I don’t know if I can do this without you-  _ please _ .”

The tell-tale sounds of repulsors were heard nearby, but between his own sobs and Harley’s slowing heartbeat, he barely registered it. 

His heartbeat didn’t calm down until Tony flew him back to the Tower and Cho met them in the waiting room an hour later.

_ “He pulled through.” _


	3. stumbling and staggering

He was tired. He was so, so tired. His bones longed for a rest and his muscles throbbed and his heartbeat was loud in his ears. He just wanted everything to be over. He wanted to go home. But alas, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least, so he straightened himself out and walked over to Tony, who was struggling to get up from the ground, face twisted in pain. 

“You alright, old man?” Harley asked, eyeing the stab wound on the man’s side. He grabbed Tony’s hand and helped pull him to his feet.

“Yeah, I’m fine, kid.”

Harley, still uneasy, nodded and turned to the rest.

“Shit,” he muttered. His heart dropped.

“Steady, Quill,” Tony said, unable to keep the dread out of his tone. Quill swayed on his feet, his entire body cracking and flaking into what seemed like ash until he was gone and all that was left of him were cinders. 

“Did we just lose..?” Harley murmured.

Slowly, the rest began to disappear. First Mantis, then Drax, and finally, Stephen. 

Harley looked around. Only him, Tony, Peter, and Nebula were left. Silence fell over them. Tense, fearful. 

Then,

“Guys..?”

Harley looked over his shoulder, heart dropping. His blood went cold for a moment. Peter was staring down at his hands, eyes wide. He staggered closer to the two.

“Pete,” Tony murmured from beside Harley. Tony rushed over to the teenager. Harley’s muscles were locked in place. Peter’s hands were gone. He was hyperventilating, eyes flicking from Tony back down to his arms. 

_ ‘Move, Harley.’ _

And with that, Harley ran over to Peter, hands on his cheeks, his shoulders, his arms. Peter hugged Harley, shaking and sobbing and grasping onto Harley with crushing strength. He collapsed, and Harley gently set him on the ground, hands cupping his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, you’re gonna be fine, Pete, alright? You’re ok,” he murmured, eyes stinging with tears and a lump forming in his throat. He looked up at Tony.

“There must be something we can do, right?”

Tony avoided his gaze.

“ _ Right _ ?”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

Harley looked back down at Peter to find him smiling up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“No, no, no, Pete, don’t you die on me, you’re gonna be fine, I just- we just gotta find a way- you can’t-” Harley sobbed. Tony reached over and sweetly ruffled Peter’s hair.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” he whispered, voice trembling with grief. “You’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter! i've been working on a few other projects recently and I also started school after a one-week break so don't expect the chapter updates to be super regular hsjdhjdhs
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated!! <3


	4. angry mob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no trigger warning, but there is a lotta angst O_o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you realized i made the prompt list smaller, no you didn't ❤️

Peter flinched as another pebble was thrown at his window. He curled in on himself even further, eyes stinging with tears at the chants of the angry civilians outside his apartment. The same civilians he'd put his own life down to protect.

Their signs were still engraved into his mind.

**"SPIDER-MAN IS A DANGER TO OUR CHILDREN"**

**"MUTANTS ARE MONSTERS"**

He blinked the memories away and rested his head on the wall behind him.

He could only wonder where it all went wrong. When people stopped seeing him as their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and started seeing him as a bloodthirsty, heartless murderer.

Was it when Tony died? Because if he hadn't, he no doubt would've helped Peter take Mysterio down.

Or was it when his identity was leaked and he had to swing home as fast as physically possible to make sure May was alright. Yeah, he might've been a bit paranoid, but those people outside were _mad_ , and Peter could only imagine how far they'd go to display their hate towards the hero. Not only did his identity-reveal put him in danger, but it also put his family in danger. May, Harley, Pepper, Morgan, Christ, maybe even _Ned and MJ_ were in danger.

He hadn't realized tears were streaming down his reddened cheeks until he felt them dribble down his cheeks and fall onto the front of his shirt.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called out, quickly wiping away all evidence that he'd been crying. 

The door squeaked open and Harley peeked through.

"Hey, Darlin', you ready to go?" He asked softly. Peter nodded and pushed himself off of his bed to grab the bag he'd hastily prepared with most of his belongings. He zipped it closed and tossed it over his shoulder, keeping his head low -as if in shame- as he left the room. Harley's hand remained on the small of his back the entire ride back to the tower.

*** * * * * * * * * ***

Peter's room hadn't changed a bit since he last stayed there. The sheets were still wrinkly and messily tossed across the bed, his books and notepads were still open and collecting dust on his desk, and his clothes were still strewn across the floor. 

He dropped his duffel bag onto the bed and walked over to the window, pushing the curtains aside to see the sea of people protesting at the foot of the tower.

He flinched at the hand that landed on his own.

"Hey, c'mon," Harley murmured, gently pulling Peter away from the window. He sat the brunette onto the bed and crouched in front of him, cupping his cheeks. "You okay, Pete?"

Peter sighed, avoiding Harley's gaze as he tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. His face grew hot and his eyes stung.

_God damnit._

Harley must've noticed his sudden change in demeanor because he immediately sat on the bed beside Peter and wrapped his arms around the latter's shoulders.

Although Peter stifled his sobs, he couldn't help but let tears stream down his face.

"They hate me," he whispered, voice cracking. Harley ran a hand up and down his back.

"They don't hate you, Peter. We're gonna find a way to prove your innocence, I promise. You'll be ok, Pete."

Peter could only hope he was right.


	5. tied to a pole

Harley sucked in a deep breath as he jolted awake. It took a second for his vision to clear up, but when it did he took in his surroundings. He was sitting on a sidewalk, hunched over with his back pressed against a street light pole. The buildings around him were completely destroyed, cars were flipped over and bodies lay scattered around the area, some starting to get up and others unmoving.

His ears were ringing. His head hurt.

What had _happened?_

The crunching of glass sounded out from behind him. He rested his head against the pole behind him, head throbbing too much to turn and look. He swallowed, throat dry. Someone stepped in front of him and crouched down. Harley looked up.

"You're up," the man said coldly.

"Who're you?" Harley slurred. The man rested his arms on his knees.

"That's not important, what _is_ important is that you come with me."

Harley's eyebrows stitched together in confusion. He moved and only then did he realize he was handcuffed to the pole. Panic surged in his chest as the man leaned down, undid the handcuffs, and manhandled the blonde to his feet, hands gripping onto his arms with crushing force. Harley tried to pull away, but his head was spinning and he could barely breathe through the growing pain in his ribs.

After a few moments, Harley saw a van in the distance where two more men stood, guarding the vehicle.

"What do you want from me?" Harley asked, internally cringing at the fear that found its way into his tone and cracked his voice.

"Information. We know you're one of Stark's kids."

Harley barely heard what the man was saying. 

_Why was he getting so dizzy?_

His legs were getting heavier by every passing second, and he struggled to keep up with the man's quick, hurried pace. He was on the ground before he realized it. He heard the man swear under his breath before grabbing Harley's shoulder and pulling him back up, practically dragging him towards the van.

Before they could make it, though, a blur of red and blue flashed before them, and it took a bit longer than the rest for Harley to realize it was Peter. He stood, swaying on trembling legs as Peter quickly took all three men down.

"Harley?" 

Harley looked up, vision tunneling. 

He must've stumbled, because in the blink of an eye, Peter was in front of him, gently lowering him to the ground. Harley wheezed, chest aching.

"Tony's coming, alright, Harls? Can you tell me what hurts?" Peter asked, eyes scanning his boyfriend up and down, searching for any severe injuries. Harley closed his eyes.

"My chest," he murmured. "And my head." His hands were shaking, and he didn't know if it was because he was still calming down or because of a head injury he probably had. Peter looked around to make sure no one was nearby before pulling his mask off and pressing a kiss onto Harley's forehead.

"Ok, you're alright, you're safe."


End file.
